


carry you around (in the background)

by nooelgallagher



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-01-15 19:56:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18505984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nooelgallagher/pseuds/nooelgallagher
Summary: A series of ficlets featuring our favorite bisexual alien and gay sergeant in love.





	1. "Do you ever regret it?"

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "The Background" by Third Eye Blind.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you ever regret it?”
> 
> It’s not the first time that Alex has wondered, Michael knows, but it is the first time that Alex has voiced the question aloud.
> 
> And even though Michael has had countless hours to prepare a response, he’s still not sure how to string a sentence together in any way that makes sense.

“Do you ever regret it?”

It’s not the first time that Alex has wondered, Michael knows, but it is the first time that Alex has voiced the question aloud.

And even though Michael has had countless hours to prepare a response, he’s still not sure how to string a sentence together in any way that makes sense.

_Does he regret staying in Roswell?_

“When?” Michael asks. Honestly, his answer doesn’t change but he still wants to know.

Does he regret staying in Roswell after he got sent back to live with the religious fanatics, near Isobel and Max again but still  _just_  on the periphery of the new lives that they’d been building?

After Jesse Manes destroyed his hand? When Alex got shipped off to basic training and Michael didn’t know if he’d ever get to see him again? If Alex would ever even get the  _chance_  to come home?

When he heard Alex  _was_  coming back, a hero’s welcome waiting for him, but he wasn’t coming back to  _Michael_? When the only home that Michael had ever known probably didn’t even want him anymore?

When Alex told him this - them - couldn’t happen again?

Michael has had chances, plenty of them, to cut and run. It’s what everyone would have expected of him anyway.

_Michael Guerin. Unreliable. A drifter. A troublemaker. Sketchy. Wasted potential._

If he was just gone one day, he’s pretty sure nobody would really be surprised. No one would look for him. Fuck, they might even be happy.

And  _really_ , what kept him here? Isobel and Max moved on and had their own lives. After bailing on the college dream ten years ago, it seemed stupid to go back now. There was nothing in a college course he couldn’t teach himself, anyway. Roswell was never  _home_  to begin with. So why had he never started over somewhere else?

“Anytime,” is Alex’s response to Michael’s question. His forehead is furrowed like it always gets when he’s trying to watch Michael’s every expression and figure out what’s going on in his head. Like he’s trying to anticipate how Michael is going to answer.

There’s a nervous tilt to his eyebrows that Michael takes a moment to take in because it hits him all over again that he’s not the only one in this relationship with something to lose.

“Staying in Roswell…” he starts, finding his words difficult to place. He tries again: “Every minute I’ve been in Roswell has felt like one minute I’m wasting instead of trying to get home.”

Hurt flashes over Alex’s face and  _again_  Michael feels it like a kick in his gut that he’s not  _alone_  in this, that Alex is invested in this too and hearing that Michael has never felt at home here is probably hitting a little too close to the jugular.

But Michael isn’t finished. “But I realized it isn’t the town. I never stayed for the town or because I couldn’t figure out where to go next. Every minute that I’ve spent in Roswell that felt like I was wasting time was every minute you weren’t with me.”

At first Alex doesn’t respond but then his eyes go wide and his voice is barely audible when he asks, “What?”

Michael shrugs and feels a curl drop over his eye that he brushes away, breaking eye contact momentarily if only to calm the slight tremor in his voice. “I’ve never regretted a  _second_  of my time in Roswell when it was with you. Not when we were seventeen and you  _saw_  me like no one ever did. Not when you came back and we spent more time fighting than anything else. Because every second I’ve been with you has been the only time I felt home. And it’s got nothing to do with this town. It’s just you.”

 _In for a penny_ , he thinks. It’s not the first time he’s laid himself out for Alex only for him to walk away because the conversation is too difficult or brings up bad memories. But there’s something different about this time. Maybe it’s the fact that they’re finally starting to  _talk_  or maybe it’s that they’re both so tired of the half-truths but Alex is looking at him like he did before their first almost-kiss and Michael didn’t know it was possible to feel so much love and fear for one person in a moment.

Alex doesn’t immediately reply. His eyes trace over Michael’s face and Michael lets every emotion settle there because there’s no point in hiding. Alex could always see right through him, anyway, and he doesn’t  _want_  to hide.

Alex wanted an honest answer. Does Michael ever regret staying in Roswell? The answer is no, because Roswell is an arbitrary place. No matter where Michael went, what he did,  _who_  he did… It was never going to matter. Because he would take Alex with him wherever he went.

Almost as though Alex can read his thoughts, he says quietly, “You know, you were with me every day. Even though I didn’t think you’d want to be. I never thought you’d be here when I got back but I figured this was the best place to try to find you.”

 _That_  throws Michael. “You’d have gone looking for me?”

Alex shrugs. “Maybe not immediately,” he answers and Michael knows he’s being honest because there’s a trace of guilt there. “But I realized once it got closer to coming home that I could leave this town behind in a heartbeat as long as you weren’t here. Even if you weren’t waiting for me  _anywhere_. Because I was waiting for you.”

It’s as close to a love admission as they’ve come with the new versions of themselves, battered and a bit broken and jaded but still  _them_  and still just as connected as they’ve always been.

Alex doesn’t try to tug away Michael’s fingers when they wrap around his jacket collar, and he meets the kiss halfway. All at once he feels seventeen again and the nerves of that first kiss at the museum bubble in his chest except now it feels familiar.

Like coming home.

Michael could never fully regret Roswell, not really, because Roswell brought him to Alex.

And Michael could never regret Alex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr: http://nooelgallagher.tumblr.com/post/184237238910


	2. "I should have told you this a long time ago."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s 6 o’clock and Alex has just finished setting the table, two black-rimmed Corelle plates, two water glasses, two beers, and a pile of napkins that he may or may not have stolen from his last late night takeout run.

It’s 6 o’clock and Alex has just finished setting the table, two black-rimmed Corelle plates, two water glasses, two beers, and a pile of napkins that he may or may not have stolen from his last late night takeout run.

He thinks about the stack of fine china that sits unused in the cabinet, one of the only things he took from his dad’s house that he has any sort of attachment to. He remembers when his mom used to use them back before everything went to shit - before his dad decided a belt buckle was better suited for hitting him across the cheek than its intended use; when his mom was still here for family dinners and broke out the china because “special plates aren’t just for special occasions, they’re for special people;” before his brothers decided it was easier to just stay on their dad’s good side, no matter what that meant.

He hears the telltale rumble of Michael’s pickup roll in front of his house, a far cry from the smooth engine of the Volvo that Kyle drives or the slightly jittery sound his own car makes and until recently they’re the only two cars that are ever in front of his house. He hears more than sees Michael hop out even though if he angles his head he can peek through a window. His boots crunch over the gravel and the creak of the front porch signals that he’s at the door. Alex hears one then two knocks and the door swings open.

If Alex is honest he’s still not entirely used to the tactile way that Michael greets him. It started small, his hands tugging loosely on the collar of Alex’s shirt or jacket or sometimes the hem like a little kid trying to get their parent’s attention. It graduated to his fingers running through the hair at the nape of Alex’s neck if they stood close to each other, or placing his hand on the small of Alex’s back like an anchor.

But he’s  _getting_  used to it, is the thing. And he thinks that’s what matters most.

“Hey,” is the first thing out of Michael’s mouth when he strolls into the kitchen and eyes the spread on the table. The kiss hello is also still unexpected, but he’s getting used to that too.

“Hi,” Alex says back, turning to properly look at Michael and smile when he sees a line of grease that somehow managed to settle over his left eyebrow. “Busy day?”

“Someone left a screwdriver under the hood of their car,” Michael launches into his story, a long-suffering sigh just barely escaping his chest as he leans against the table. “An actual screwdriver. They said it sounded like something was banging around in their engine. And it was a screwdriver.”

Alex gives an appropriately affronted look but mostly he’s watching Michael’s face as he tells the story.

“-like what kind of asshole tries to  _pop out_  the radiator using a  _screwdriver_? They’re lucky the whole fucking thing didn’t explode.”

The visual is amusing and Alex has a vague understanding of what happens under the hood of a car and no where near Michael’s knowledge but he’s pretty sure you’re not supposed to use a screwdriver for that kind of thing.

“What did you do today?” Michael asks, switching gears.

“I cleaned,” Alex replies, shrugging. Not much else to do now that he’s technically unemployed.

Michael nods solemnly. “A real bitch of a time.”

Alex laughs and shoves at his shoulder. “Fuck off.”

Michael grins at him toothily, a sight that Alex is still disarmed by because it seemed like Michael never  _really_  smiled until recently, but takes the hit good-naturedly, allowing Alex to cause him to lose balance just a  _tad_.

“Well you promised me food, so I’m here.” Michael sweeps his hand across the table.

“I did,” Alex confirms, walking further into the kitchen to retrieve a pizza from the oven. He’d taken it out of the box and turned the oven on low to keep it warm until Michael arrived.

He sets the pizza on the table, propping the hot pan up over his cork trivets. Michael leans around him and eyes it up.

“I should have told you this a long time ago,” Michael says slowly, and his voice is serious enough that it jars Alex from reaching for the pizza cutter because pizzas never seem to be cut well at the actual place.

He turns and gives Michael a wide look. “What is it?”

Michael takes a deep breath. “Okay, I… Kind of hate mushrooms.”

One, then two beats go by before Michael bursts out laughing when Alex just stares blankly at him.

Alex rolls his eyes but can’t help laughing too. “You’ll see they’re only on  _half_  the pizza. I know you hate them.”

The laugh dies down but the smile is still on Michael’s lips, his eyebrow quirked. “How do you know that?”

“I saw you pick them off your salad once,” Alex shrugs, returning to the pizza to cut it  _properly_.

It isn’t a big deal, it  _isn’t_ , that he noticed that. People notice shit like that all the time.

Right?

Michael has fallen silent next to him and that’s never a good sign, so Alex turns his head and feels his heart catch because Michael is just  _watching_  him. And smiling. Not a big one. But it’s there.

“What?” Alex asks, kind of uncomfortable at the attention that Michael has focused solely on him.

Michael just grins a little bigger and nudges his shoulder against Alex’s. “You noticed. That’s all.”

One day, Alex thinks, he’ll get a chance to show Michael everything else he’s noticed - black coffee, no sugar, preferably iced; CDs over streaming because apparently Michael still lives in 2005; the same blue and green flannel that’s gone through so many washes the color is uneven but it’s soft and secretly Alex’s favorite too.

 _In time_ , he thinks.

Usually, Alex isn’t the one to initiate the kisses but he knows Michael won’t mind. He gently grabs the back of his neck and tugs him forward so their lips meet softly. He rests their foreheads together, eyes shut, and takes a moment to breathe.

When they separate, Alex just says quietly, “Be right back” and grabs the two plates he’d set out from the table.

“You know we need those, right?” Michael calls after him as Alex disappears back into the kitchen but Alex ignores him.

It doesn’t take Alex long to return with two new plates: white platinum, pastel blue and silver flowers lining the rim.

Michael glances down when Alex puts them on the table. “These are nice. Why the change?”

“They’re my mom’s,” Alex answers. “Her fine china.”

“It’s just pizza,” Michael counters.

“Special plates aren’t for special occasions,” Alex recites, “they’re for special people.”

This time, Michael kisses him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr: http://nooelgallagher.tumblr.com/post/184306139790


	3. “Are you pissed ‘cause I called you a human?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time it happens, Alex throws his prosthetic at Michael. (It’s okay because they’re getting in bed and he doesn’t need it at the moment.)

The first time it happens, Alex throws his prosthetic at Michael. (It’s okay because they’re getting in bed and he doesn’t need it at the moment.)

Michael, of course, slows its trajectory at him with his (annoyingly impressive) mind skills and it lands safely in his hands. “You know these things are expensive, right?”

Alex just raises his eyebrows at him until Michael grins at him cockily. “What?”

“You know what,” Alex says crankily.

From where Michael has been standing across the bedroom, he pushes off the wall in a manner that is entirely too attractive given how Alex is currently irritated at him. He plops down next to Alex on the bed and bumps their shoulders.

“Are you pissed ‘cause I called you a human?” Michael asks him.

Alex huffs in response, choosing to unbuckle his watch rather than dignify that question with a response.

Michael nuzzles his forehead into Alex’s shoulder and places a kiss against the bare skin. “You  _are_  a human, you know.”

“I’m abundantly aware of that,” Alex replies, turning his head to look Michael in the eyes and  _that_  is a mistake because they’re currently swimming with mischief and Michael is back to grinning that shit-eating grin.

“So what’s the problem? Michael asks, leaning closer in and kissing Alex’s jaw.

“It’s the  _way_  you said it,” Alex answers, tilting his head back to give Michael better access to his neck.

“I used it as an adjective. It’s descriptive,” Michael mumbles around the skin he’s currently nipping at with his teeth.

“What if I used ‘alien’ as a descriptor?” Alex wants to know. His eyes shut of their own volition when he feels Michael’s tongue run along the sensitive skin where his neck meets his shoulder.

“You already did,” Michael replies. “You called it my alien Jedi mind trick when I stopped the cast iron pan from falling off the hook.” His hand has snaked forward and is running along the skin around Alex’s belly button.

“Calling me a ‘human snack’ somehow seems a bit different,” Alex counters and apparently that does it for Michael because he breaks his assault on Alex’s body and bursts out laughing.

“Haven’t you heard that before? That’s what the kids call it these days. A snack is a compliment.”

“ _Kids_?” Alex raises his eyebrows again but feels himself start to laugh because Michael’s eyes glittering when he’s happy has always been among Alex’s favorite things.

“Well I am, like, almost eighty if we’re counting,” Michael replies. “You’re all kids to me.”

Alex can’t help the huff of a laugh that breaks through even though he’s trying to maintain looking annoyed. “Still you had to specify  _human_  snack?”

“How about this,” Michael starts, leaning back in to press a kiss to Alex’s nose. “The next time I call you a human, I’ll really mean it.”

“What does that even mean” Alex asks.

“You’ll see,” Michael sings at him. “And you can call me an alien whenever you want.”

Alex just shakes his head. “Your name will do just fine for me,” he says.

“First or last?” Michael asks with a wink.

Alex bumps their foreheads together. “Both.”

—

True to his word, Michael doesn’t use “human” as a descriptor for Alex again - though he does call him a snack every now and then because the evil eye Alex gives him evidently never gets old.

Alex also slips up once calling Michael an alien, even though he tried to be conscious of it. He says “alien Jedi mind trick” again when Michael swats a mosquito off the wall by shooting a magazine at it. Michael doesn’t hide his delight.

But still, for all of Michael’s cool abilities - and Alex is learning there are several, some even Michael doesn’t seem to be fully aware of or confident using - Alex doesn’t want  _alien_  to be part of his vocabulary. He’s Michael, first and foremost.

Michael keeps his promise, though, and Alex nearly forgets about the whole thing. Occasionally he wonders what Michael meant by saying the next time, he’ll  _mean it_ , but it doesn’t keep him up at night. (Michael  _does_  keep him up in other ways.)

It actually comes out of the blue nearly two months later, and in the most unexpected way. Alex comes home early one evening to find a vase of flowers on his kitchen table. He smiles immediately, taking in the various colors; purple, red, and yellow in different tones.

The card attached to the vase simply says  _Happy Anniversary_  on the outside of the envelope. It’s in Michael’s handwriting. The inside is also in his handwriting rather than typed which warms Alex all over because it means the flower shop didn’t write it out.

_Dear Alex,_

_I’ll save you the Google search:_

_Asters to represent patience._  
 _Lavender to represent devotion._  
 _Chrysanthemums to represent honesty._  
_Daffodils to represent new beginnings._  
 _(And you know what roses mean…)_

_You’re my person. And since I’ve got the whole alien thing going for me, you’re my human. I’m grateful every day for you - for your patience, your devotion, your honesty, and this new beginning._

_Happy Anniversary._

_Love always,  
Michael_

Alex reads the note again. And again. Then he starts reading it a fourth time but is interrupted by a throat-clearing cough. Alex jerks his head up and there’s Michael. He’s leaning in the doorway and watching Alex with a soft smile on his face.

“How long have you been standing there?” Alex asks, a surprised laugh escaping his mouth as he lets the card drop to the table.

“Long enough,” Michael replies.

“You know it’s not really our anniversary, right?” Alex says as Michael steps away from the door frame and moves to join Alex on the other side of the table.

“No,” Michael agrees, “it isn’t. But it is  _an_  anniversary. It’s the day you first tried to kiss me.”

Immediately Alex feels his cheeks flush and he groans. “Oh, God. Thank you for reminding me of that embarrassment. I thought you were rejecting me.”

Michael shakes his head. “No, definitely not. It was the first time in my life it felt like someone cared about me. And it scared the shit out of me.”

Alex wraps a hand around Michael’s wrist and tugs him forward. “You never told me that.”

Michael shrugs. “It was never a good time to.”

“Well,” Alex says on a breath, “I did care about you. And it scared me too.”

“But you were still brave,” Michael tells him. “And I figured if you were brave enough to try, I was too.”

Alex smiles. “I’m glad you did.”

“Me too,” Michael says. “Now aren’t you going to compliment the flower arrangement?”

“I love you,” Alex says instead.

It’s worth cutting Michael’s teasing off to see the way his eyes light up. “I love you,” he says back. He wraps a hand around Alex’s back and pulls him in close so there’s barely any space between them.

“You’re my person, too,” Alex says. Then, with a wicked grin (and because he knows Michael won’t mind), “And you’re my alien.”

Michael’s matching smile makes the butterflies that had been fluttering in Alex’s stomach alight. “But not a snack?”

“Just kiss me, Michael.” Alex rolls his eyes.

So Michael does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr: https://nooelgallagher.tumblr.com/post/184448678645
> 
> The whole idea of calling Alex a snack was inspired by this post: https://laurenkmyers.tumblr.com/post/184404422488


End file.
